Teach
03-05-2015, 01:26 PM
“How did you meet your wife?” my friend “Bucko” asked. After I had finished,” “Bucko” said, “He did you the biggest favor!”
Oh, about a half-dozen years ago, “Bucko” and I were talking about how we had met our wives. “Bucko” had met his wife at through work; I had met mine at a house party.
Yet even after I had dated the woman who would become my wife for several months, I still wasn’t sold on marrying her. I don’t know why I felt this way. She was both attractive and personable. My feelings were hard to quantify. It may well have been several factors. Not the least of which was the fact that back in the mid-1950s my parents had divorced when I was about to become a teen-ager.
What am I to do? I mean about marriage. I was in a quandary. I was reaching an important crossroads in my life, but I didn’t know which path to take. Do I marry this woman? Do I propose? I was emotional paralyzed.
Well, it was then that I visited, or more aptly, re-visited a pharmacist who I used to work for at his drugstore across the street from my old Boston apartment building.
In years past, especially when I worked as a clerk on very slow, Sunday afternoons, the pharmacist and I would have friendly chats. Oh, we talked about a variety of topics: what I planned to do when I graduated from college. Did I plan to teach in the Boston area or would I try to find a position, elsewhere? These and other topics came up.
Well, years later, when I arrived at the drugstore to visit my old pharmacist friend, it was like old times (although I wasn’t totally estranged from my father, I found it difficult to talk with him about topics such as this; after he divorced my mother, he quickly re-married a woman who had two children of her own).
That Sunday afternoon was quiet and the pharmacist and I had a chance to talk as we had done years earlier. I told him about my “marriage” predicament and asked his advice. I recall he asked me to tell him about the woman I was interested in. I did just that.
Then, the pharmacist brought up a topic I had never given much thought to: “Does the woman you’re interested in come from substance?” It took me a moment to figure out the meaning of this veiled comment. Then, it dawned on me: “Does she have money?”
In hindsight, as I think back, the thought, strangely enough, never crossed my mind. Frankly, my mother, younger brother and I had been so poor (meager alimony checks and child support) that I figured that if I did marry, the woman I do marry would have to have more money than I did.
Well, as I continued our discussion, I told the pharmacist that the family of the woman I was interested in owned a small auto parts store and machine shop. That, although I had only visited her family once, they lived in a fashionable section of town in a nice, well-kept home.
As I finished, the pharmacist said, “Walt, if I were you I’d seriously consider marrying her if, as you’ve told me, she’s as personable and attractive as you’ve described her. The pharmacist didn’t quite come out and say it, but in so many words, he said, “It’s O.K. to marry for money”. He then said something to the effect that having money in a marital relationship is like the mayonnaise on a tuna sandwich. He finished up by saying, “It makes things a whole lot easier.”
That February, I proposed. She accepted. We were married that June. We’ve been married nearly 46 years. And I’m not sorry I made that decision. As for the money, it was far from the only reason that I married this woman, but let’s say this – it didn’t hurt.
Oh, I don’t see “Bucko” as often as I used to. ADW’s will do that. But when I do, I remind him of his remark: “He (the pharmacist) did you the biggest favor!” And I say, “Yes ‘Bucko’, Yes!”
Oh, about a half-dozen years ago, “Bucko” and I were talking about how we had met our wives. “Bucko” had met his wife at through work; I had met mine at a house party.
Yet even after I had dated the woman who would become my wife for several months, I still wasn’t sold on marrying her. I don’t know why I felt this way. She was both attractive and personable. My feelings were hard to quantify. It may well have been several factors. Not the least of which was the fact that back in the mid-1950s my parents had divorced when I was about to become a teen-ager.
What am I to do? I mean about marriage. I was in a quandary. I was reaching an important crossroads in my life, but I didn’t know which path to take. Do I marry this woman? Do I propose? I was emotional paralyzed.
Well, it was then that I visited, or more aptly, re-visited a pharmacist who I used to work for at his drugstore across the street from my old Boston apartment building.
In years past, especially when I worked as a clerk on very slow, Sunday afternoons, the pharmacist and I would have friendly chats. Oh, we talked about a variety of topics: what I planned to do when I graduated from college. Did I plan to teach in the Boston area or would I try to find a position, elsewhere? These and other topics came up.
Well, years later, when I arrived at the drugstore to visit my old pharmacist friend, it was like old times (although I wasn’t totally estranged from my father, I found it difficult to talk with him about topics such as this; after he divorced my mother, he quickly re-married a woman who had two children of her own).
That Sunday afternoon was quiet and the pharmacist and I had a chance to talk as we had done years earlier. I told him about my “marriage” predicament and asked his advice. I recall he asked me to tell him about the woman I was interested in. I did just that.
Then, the pharmacist brought up a topic I had never given much thought to: “Does the woman you’re interested in come from substance?” It took me a moment to figure out the meaning of this veiled comment. Then, it dawned on me: “Does she have money?”
In hindsight, as I think back, the thought, strangely enough, never crossed my mind. Frankly, my mother, younger brother and I had been so poor (meager alimony checks and child support) that I figured that if I did marry, the woman I do marry would have to have more money than I did.
Well, as I continued our discussion, I told the pharmacist that the family of the woman I was interested in owned a small auto parts store and machine shop. That, although I had only visited her family once, they lived in a fashionable section of town in a nice, well-kept home.
As I finished, the pharmacist said, “Walt, if I were you I’d seriously consider marrying her if, as you’ve told me, she’s as personable and attractive as you’ve described her. The pharmacist didn’t quite come out and say it, but in so many words, he said, “It’s O.K. to marry for money”. He then said something to the effect that having money in a marital relationship is like the mayonnaise on a tuna sandwich. He finished up by saying, “It makes things a whole lot easier.”
That February, I proposed. She accepted. We were married that June. We’ve been married nearly 46 years. And I’m not sorry I made that decision. As for the money, it was far from the only reason that I married this woman, but let’s say this – it didn’t hurt.
Oh, I don’t see “Bucko” as often as I used to. ADW’s will do that. But when I do, I remind him of his remark: “He (the pharmacist) did you the biggest favor!” And I say, “Yes ‘Bucko’, Yes!”